Alone...
Here I sit in a empty house full of wannabe musicians and not a single instrument. Ah, the evil lure of the pawn shop and it's fast fast money. Money for a fix or two. Then the depression and reality of what you've lost sinks in. But that is what life is...a lifetime of loss.
Inside my closet hides a single solitary needle, mocking me. Bent, dull, used over and over...just like me. It's empty...just like me. I wanna fill it with the soft, warm glow of freedom...just like me. I wanna throw it away and never look back. But I can't. The hooks have been dug too deep. Scar tissue that will never heal. Scar tissue on my arms, scar tissue on my heart, scar tissue on my soul. Scar tissue that will never heal. Ever.
Sometimes I fear I've gone too far. That I've taken that final step just a little too close to the edge. Lost my footing and began to slide down, down, down...into the dark abyss.
So here I sit. Alone in the dark. All I want to do is grab my guitar and sing myself into a quiet calm. To find that special place hidden deep within the melody of a song that heals you, if even for just and instant. Oh, but what a glorious, precious moment it is. That single, solitary moment of complete peace, where everything bad and horrible in this world disappears for a millisecond and you find utter and complete bliss. But I can't.
The girl I loved for five years (so intensely and fiercely that at times I wondered if my heart was going to burst from my chest and explode into a billion little pieces and fill the sky like stars) came and took my last guitar away. I had bought it for her on a Valentines day in happier times. A trail of rose pedals lead into the room where I sat with the guitar in hand and played her a song I had written on it that expressed my never ending love for her that would never die. Love makes you blind. Love makes you stupid. She hates me now because she hates herself when she sees me. She cheated on me, broke my heart, and left me, but I'm the evil one. Fuck love.
So here I sit.
Alone.
Inside my closet hides a single solitary needle, mocking me. Bent, dull, used over and over...just like me. It's empty...just like me. I wanna fill it with the soft, warm glow of freedom...just like me. I wanna throw it away and never look back. But I can't. The hooks have been dug too deep. Scar tissue that will never heal. Scar tissue on my arms, scar tissue on my heart, scar tissue on my soul. Scar tissue that will never heal. Ever.
Sometimes I fear I've gone too far. That I've taken that final step just a little too close to the edge. Lost my footing and began to slide down, down, down...into the dark abyss.
So here I sit. Alone in the dark. All I want to do is grab my guitar and sing myself into a quiet calm. To find that special place hidden deep within the melody of a song that heals you, if even for just and instant. Oh, but what a glorious, precious moment it is. That single, solitary moment of complete peace, where everything bad and horrible in this world disappears for a millisecond and you find utter and complete bliss. But I can't.
The girl I loved for five years (so intensely and fiercely that at times I wondered if my heart was going to burst from my chest and explode into a billion little pieces and fill the sky like stars) came and took my last guitar away. I had bought it for her on a Valentines day in happier times. A trail of rose pedals lead into the room where I sat with the guitar in hand and played her a song I had written on it that expressed my never ending love for her that would never die. Love makes you blind. Love makes you stupid. She hates me now because she hates herself when she sees me. She cheated on me, broke my heart, and left me, but I'm the evil one. Fuck love.
So here I sit.
Alone.